


The Voidfish's Outlying Notes

by cassowarykisses



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Family Fluff, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassowarykisses/pseuds/cassowarykisses
Summary: Across Faerun, there are stories that canon didn't tell. These are some of them.





	1. Ranch Dressing and Ranchos

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the title goes to minimusminor on tumblr. Characters & tags will be added as more ficlets are added.

The Bureau of Balance’s moonbase was huge. That meant – fortunately for Brian – that there were plenty of nooks and crannies in the dark recesses of the base.

They were perfect spots to lurk and perfect his look. Everyone said you had to work your way up to a cave, and Brian knew they were right. Only rank amateurs tried to skip levels. It went nook, then cranny, then abandoned mine, and then cave. And preferably one of the caves with a dark portal to gods long forgotten, but sometimes the deeper mines had those too, so that requirement wasn’t as strict.

Brian knocked at the door of one of janitor’s closets. “Oh Bryan!” he sang, and opened the door.

Bryan scurried up to him. He was getting so big! Almost puppy-sized, and twice as cute. Everyone knew it was the legs that charmed you, with puppies, and Bryan had plenty of those.

“Look what I brought you, Bryan!” Brian said. “Ranch-covered tarantula treats! Zey are your favorite – ze live insects, and I got ze ranch homemade from ze cafeteria.” He carefully opened the bag and pulled out one insect. It wriggled at him, and Bryan perked up. Brian laughed, and gave Bryan a scratch on the back of his abdomen near his spinnerets with his free hand. It was his second favorite spot to be scratched, aside from just under his palps. “Don’t scuttle-scuttle away, my friend!” he said to the insect, grinning. “Bryan will soon have you scuttling down his throat!”

Bryan pounced, and Brian settled back against the wall to watch him eat. “Oh wow, zat is nasty,” he said, still smiling fondly at Bryan. “You are going to be a scary boy, ja?”

Bryan hissed at him affectionately.

“Zat is what I was zinking, too,” Brian said, and gave Bryan his long-awaited palp scratch.


	2. Garfield: Greg II Greg Harder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "Garfield the deals warlock is secretly Greg Grimaldis" on tumblr

After the apocalypse, they go to Fantasy Costco.

“They’d better have those twelve-packs of fantasy muffins,” Magnus says, throwing open the doors. “I’ve got a craving for some sugar, and I think I deserve a cheat day.”

“Cheat days are bullshit,” Taako says as Lup floats along beside him. “You think I’m going to let some diet plan get in the way of cooking whatever I want? No go, amigo.”

Behind them, Davenport jogs to keep up with Magnus’s stride. “I just don’t think I got the chance to properly appreciate this place before,” he says. “You really say it’s got everything?”

“Believe me, buddy,” Taako says, “It had a literal corpse in a tube. If you want it, Fantasy Costco’s got it.”

Halfway across the doorway, Lup stops. She sniffs the air. Or at least, it looks like that, considering that liches don’t have noses.

“ _Greg Grimaldis_ ,” she growls.

“ _What?_ ” Taako says. “Lup, funny story, that, but dude’s long dead.”

“No,” she insists, “It’s him! I’d remember that shitty cologne across any planar system.”

Davenport raises a hand. “Let’s think about this rationally: cologne is sold to more than one person, in my experience,” he says. “I’m sorry you couldn’t get your revenge, Lup, but – “

“Oh come on!” she says. “Merle got his relatives back across dimensions, why can’t I get a consistent nemesis?”

“Would he even be your nemesis?” Magnus asks. “Like, he wouldn’t owe you money across lives, right?”

Taako snickers and Lup’s form shudders in a lich scowl. “His debts will be paid when they are literally paid, in full, to me,” she mutters.

“You know,” Magnus starts, “the till _is_ open.”

Deep within her cowl, the two flames that serve as Lup’s eyes gleam. “You don’t say.”

She leaves fifteen dollars richer.


	3. Home Is Where the Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for siorca on tumblr. Also, June and Roswell are absolutely siblings and I love them.

“I got a surprise for you,” June said to Roswell one day.

“Oh?” they said. They’re perched up in the sheriff’s office, on Isaak’s old desk. They’d had Ren and Redmond add perches all around the building for them ages ago, to make it easier to get around without their old body. It was nice.

June grinned, and held out her index finger for Roswell to hop onto as she walked towards the door. “Yeah, c’mon.” They fluttered over to her hand, then from her hand to her head. “Hey!” June protested.

“It’s more comfortable up here,” Roswell said. They fluffed up their feathers and settled down.

“Aw, quit it,” June said, shaking her head so her beaded braids went every which way. Roswell started and took off, setting down on the roof of the sheriff’s office. They peered down at June, who stuck her tongue out at them. “You deserved it. Your feet feel all kinds of weird on my hair.” She ran a hand through her hair, straightening out her braids.

Roswell laughed. They’d always liked their laugh, a high, piping sound. They’d used to think it was a nice counter to Isaak’s scratchy one, and nowadays it matched June’s laugh down to the last note. It was a laugh that belonged somewhere, and that somewhere was Refuge.

June laughed, too, and Roswell flew back down to her hand. “What do you have for me?” they asked.

“C’mere,” June said. She cupped the hand with Roswell in it against her chest, and walked around to the back of the Davy Lamp.

They’d never seen a birdhouse before, but they’d seen pictures. Paloma liked to cut out pictures of gardens in Neverwinter and hang them on her walls, and Roswell had liked to ask her about them, back when they were new. This one was small and dusty brown, but it was neatly made, and the door on the front was just the right size. “ _Oh_ ,” Roswell breathed.

“I got tired of waiting for the bubble to come down so I could get proper paint,” June said, and scuffed at the dirt with her shoes. “But I’ll paint it one day, I promise, Roswell.”

“It doesn’t need paint, I don’t think,” Roswell said. “It looks like Refuge.”

“Like a home?” June asked.

“Yes,” Roswell said, and flew inside.


End file.
